Abecedarium
by Smells Like Old Spirit
Summary: A series of alphabet-themed one-shots following Max and Logan. Might feature more characters from the show. G is for Gone: "Logan could enounce a thousand reasons why this was wrong."
1. After

**Disclaimer:** Dark Angel and its characters belong to Fox.

**Characters/pairings:** ML all the way. Though their relationship in each piece might not be as romantic as I usually like, and I might feature another characters.

**Rating:** T. May content (like this first part) subtle references to sex, perhaps violence, but nothing too graphic or too much to bear. Still, I am open to the suggestion of changing it to M.

**A/N:** I probably write way more than I should, yet years passed before I realized it was pointless to keep all of those drabbles stored in my laptop rather than let them wander around. I decided to use the ABC's motive plenty of MA shippers use (my apologies if they feel offended by this). Most of these will be one-shots, though I will politely point out if one of them is related to another.

* * *

**Abecedarium**

After: _prep_. Subsequent in time to; at a later time than.

Max collapsed, her heart stopping for the longest in her life before beating again.

Logan embraced her, trying to regain his own breath as the mellow aroma of her tousled hair invaded his lungs. How had they come down to this? Seconds passed before he was flooding with the memories of the last hour: a sudden, non-alcohol driven confession; a relieved, heart-melting admission and now, the overwhelming feeling of rightness as he grazed his lips across the thick locks of brown hair. Her own lips curved up into the faintest smile and he felt them against his neck, dying just to see the content in the gesture, yet not willing to break the blissful moment...

AAAAA

_In the middle of their after-dinner ritual, _I love you_ was all he'd said, almost defiantly, to her. All she did after that was to crawl into his lap and accept the challenge._

_Then it all came in the most natural of ways. He allowed her to explore him in the same level he was discovering her, and learnt her secrets as he let her provoke responses. __It was like understanding physics in its most primal way: how every action, even as delicate as the way she trailed kisses down his neck, could evoke such profound reactions. _

___Even when their naked bodies clashed together, he hadn't thought how this was all new to him, until ____the mere sound of his name, divided in its two syllables as she crumpled under his touch, became too much for him to bear. A part of him reminded him he was as closest to a virgin as he could ever again be but, before embarrasment took the best from him, Max, the fast learner she was, took in his gestures and slowed the pace, entangling her fingers with his, pausing for a second as she stared into the emeralds in his eyes, whispering. "Relax."_

AAAAA

Max shrugged off the arm that held her tight and sat in his abdomen, an angelic look on her features as she studied her lover. He was about to voice his complain when she placed a finger across his lips, then two, before leaning down and kissing the tip of his nose. He frowned, she giggled.

"You're weird," he finally muttered, a tenderness in his voice that he found foreign yet so natural, and she laughed a little more.

"You're a weirdo yourself, Logan Cale."

His hands traced the sides of her body, as if looking for a way to tie her down to him. She dismissed the touch, rolled over, and sat, her bare back turned to him. For a moment, Logan considered his comment had been found offensive by his companion and regretted ever been granted with the gift of speaking. After a minute, she chuckled and he forced himself to relax, then quivered as short, newly manicured nails traveled across his left side, starting just two inches above his injury, the feeling quickly vanishing. His eyes followed the movement, only imagining what the sensation would be, amazed at how the idea was more than enough.

Once she reached his ankle, she stopped and tilted her head, barely meeting his scrutinizing gaze. "How much would it take for me to become your PT?" she asked as her skilled hands grabbed his foot and guided his leg into a flexing position, then placed his sole in the mattress.

At first, Logan didn't quite process the question, his attention now focused in his once athletic legs. Memories of a time when his _whole_ body was both attractive and fully functional came to him, but none of them was as appealing as the sight before him. Messy hair framing the olive skin of her face, she rested her chin into his kneecap, still waiting for an answer. "Well, Max, I'm sorry to be the one breaking this to you," he replied after a while, "but I'm sure your... _revolutionary_ methods don't qualify as therapy."

She feign indignity, then kissed his knee. "Oh, Logan, this wasn't therapy. This was more like a reward for you," she paused, then added before he could jump into a wrong conclusion, "and me. Though I wouldn't mind to experiment later and see what kind of effect this could have in your health."

It was his time for faux offense, an eyebrow arched. "So, you're saying I have an unhealthy life style?"

"Definitely. You work a lot. A girl like me could always use a little more of attention."

He smiled at the implication of her request. "What about my meals?" he inquired, "I mean, you'll need to eat here more often, so you can be sure I'm feeding myself just fine."

"Oh, you can be sure of that," she grinned. "Maybe you can teach me a few cooking tips," then suddenly paused, a pensive look on her features.

"What?"

"How did you learn to cook?"

An untold story about his father and his fascination with Arab cuisine was revealed, followed by another inquire and yet another answer, and then another and another... It felt a lot like playing twenty-questions, but Logan didn't feel pressed by her insatiable curiosity. Actually, it felt kind of nice, knowing there was someone who wanted to know all about him, but wasn't looking down at him. It was part of Max's charm; she never pretended to stand higher, let alone lower, than him.

In the end, when he was laying naked–beyond the literal meaning of the word–before her, he had a question of his own, one he'd fought to keep in the back of his head, one he desperately need the answer for.

"What's gonna happen in the morning?"

He even had to wonder why the question had come out _that _way (_in the morning,_ rather than _with us? _Seriously?), and hoped he hadn't sounded pathetic. But as Max lowered herself, her eager, warm body covering the length of his just as her tongue brushed his lower lip, he decided he didn't really want to know the answer to that and gave into the kiss. If she ran away, if she had to go to Jam Pony, if she made love to him... it didn't matter. What had already happened was the only tangible fact, and the future wouldn't take that away from him. Still, when her lips abandoned his, her skin caressing his cheek as she slid her mouth closer to his earlobe, he felt like he knew everything, like he understood the very core of the mysteries of the universe.

"In the morning," she murmured as if preparing her answer, her breath warming him in a way nothing else before had, and once again he felt her smile against his face, his own matching hers upon hearing her words, "I will still love you in the morning."

* * *

**On a second A/N:** I'm such a sucker for ML romance. Sue me.


	2. Bast

**Disclaimer:** Dark Angel and its characters belong to Fox.

**A/N:** No tag to _After_. Set during _Pilot _(if you haven't guess by the title).

* * *

**Abecedarium**

Bast: _proper_ _n_. Feline goddess of ancient Egyptian religion who was worshipped at least since the Second Dynasty. A wild goddess, to those who were in her favor, she gave great blessings, but her wrath was legendary and she was sometimes listed as one of Ra's avenging deities who punish the sinful and the enemies of Egypt.

From the minute she crosses the door, Max knows something is amiss.

"Kendra, you home?" She asks into the darkness, more out of a habit than of a real curiosity. In the five months since her friend moved in, Max has grown used to the blonde's nocturnal habits. It's Wednesday and, if Kendra were there, she'd be probably screaming God's name because of her most recent, picked up from Crash lover. Whether she's still in the bar or having sex somewhere else, however, it's not of her business, and her roommate's absence has never worried her before. It's a fact Kendra's a big girl and she can take care of herself.

It's not the little moonlight that looms across the window, though she'd like much more if it disappeared. She's familiar with Seattle's cloudy days–and nights. The darkness that comes after twilight always offers her protection; it's her shelter, her solace, which is why night it's more reassuring to her than any other time of the day.

It's nor her Ninja, resting in the improvised living room, her most treasured possession, her partner in crime and company in her biggest adventures. _Or maybe it is_, she thinks briefly, noticing that, for the first time in those five months, Kendra's underwear isn't adorning the motorcycle.

A quick gaze around the room and the poorly equipped kitchen reveals nothing more, and she decides the problem it's the day before yesterday. _And yesterday, too._ _Exposure is never a good thing_, Max reminds herself. _It always ends up with Lydecker on your tail. That's how you arrived to this city, in the first place._ She mentally adds a red flag next to Logan Cale's name–better to his alias, _Eyes Only_, because the man can't be stupid enough to give his real name. Eyes Only shouldn't be aware of the places she likes to hang around. Eyes Only shouldn't be so curious about her motives. Eyes Only should've shot her, providing her of a reason to despise him and try to eliminate him. _Because it's not like you haven't thought so since you saw him at Crash, walking toward you like he owned the place._

Yet somehow, the statement that lingers in her head is that Eyes Only's mere presence shouldn't make her forget she is wearing her jacket.

Her feet take her to her room, silence following closely. Muscles complain about their constant use, and Max surrenders into the inviting solitude of her bed. She lays down, only for a minute, she still has to pay a visit to Vogelsang.

Sleep drifts into her, slowly, tempting, but as the figure over the dresser registers in her brain, her plans are violently thrown off the window. _Just like I did the night before yesterday_.

It's Bast, Chitarus' excellent sculpture greeting her in all her egyptian glory. Max holds her as if scared, because that's what she is now.

_You know who I am, where I live. I figured I'd better find out who I'm dealing with in case you were looking to hurt me._

Ah, those words, yesterday were his, now are fully hers.

She'll stop by, that's a fact and she slids her body into her catsuit. A chill runs down her back. If Max is walking into a trap, she won't know until she's there. In the meanwhile, she'll rely on her training, on her strength. "But the statue stays here," she mumbles to herself as she places the goddess back to the spot where she found her. _Bastard just lost the best part of his collection_.

* * *

**On a second A/N:** I thought of using Max's description of Bast in _Pilot_, but a little research brought up a more interesting concept for the goddess. Kind of suits her, but that would make Logan Ra... not that I mind him being an egyptian god.


	3. Covenant

**Disclaimer:** Dark Angel and its characters belong to Fox.

**A/N:** Set in that little time between _Pilot_ and_ Heat_. Logan's POV.

* * *

**Abecedarium**

Covenant: _n._ A mutual compact or agreement of two or more persons to do or to refrain from doing some act; a contract; a compact.

Though her eyes scanned the picture he handed her with something Logan identified as a mixture of enthusiasm and nostalgia, Max didn't say another word before abandoning the penthouse–the green folder pressed closely to her chest.

_What now?_ Logan wondered if they had a deal, if he had a right to call her and request her cooperation when Solinski were about to make his next move. _It was rude from her to leave like that, anyway_.

Then again, she'd already saved his life, taken out the threat of Sonrisa and brought Lauren and Sophy back together. She had a reason to believe that was enough _quid pro quo_. _And in her standards_, he thought, absently caressing the wooden box where Bast rested, _I probably still owe her_.

Under that premise, he started working on her case.

CCCCC

"So," Max's voice startled him, three days later. His hands abandoned the keyboard, then he turned around to face her, leaning casually against the office's doorframe. Logan could see doubt in her eyes, but there's was also a fire that burnt so bright it enkindled him. He fought to keep his own expectations low, though, as much as she struggled to keep off her voice any indication that this arrangement had stirred her in any way. "What do you want me to do?"

He had his answer at last.

* * *

**On a second A/N: **I wish I had more reviews. Reviews are nice and I don't mind criticism. But I'm still updating, no matter what. This is no blackmail.


	4. Dress

**Disclaimer:** Dark Angel and its characters belong to Fox.

**A/N:** Post _Art Attack_.

* * *

**Abecedarium**

Dress: _n._ The gown or robe worn by women, consisting of a skirt and a waist, either made separately or in one garment.

"Boo," Original Cindy frowned, dark eyes fixated in a page of the New World Weekly, "tell me you ain't that girl over there."

At first, Max panicked. Considering the paper, what could be, other than a story about a young woman displaying inhuman skills through the city? Fearful, yet curious, she extended her hand towards Cindy, grabbing the sensationalist waste of trees, and took a look by herself.

A small smile crept into her lips as she saw the perfect black and white picture of she and Logan at his cousin's wedding, two days earlier.

It took a moment for her to realize, there was no way a snooty asshole like Jonas Cale would allow his son's wedding to infiltrate in such an inferior publication, and the assumption was confirmed as she noted it was, besides a couple of ads at the bottom, the only picture in the page - the freaking photographer had probably been bribed. As such, Max jumped into the right conclusion that the small article wasn't discussing the pompous ceremony.

**Cale Industries' heir pays for his girlfriend's kleptomania  
By F.D. Tanner**

She shut her eyes, not needing to read any more.

"There says you're his girlfriend," Kendra teased, grabbing the paper with her own hands, staring at it with such an intensity, almost as if admiring the black ink in the headline.

Original Cindy rolled her eyes and elbowed their friend, then turned to look at the third figure in the park's bench. "Max, Original Cindy knows she said it was stupid to pay six grand for that bitch, but that don't mean 'twas right for you to take it just like that."

"I was planning on returning it."

"The saleswoman says Logan Cale claimed that _'his girlfriend had been unable to reach him, as he was supposed to pay for her garments,'_" the blonde read. "So much for saying he wasn't your sugar daddy," Kendra giggled, though she actually felt like demanding an explanation.

"He's not my sugar daddy!" Max exclaimed as she stood up, different shades of red covering the surface of her skin. And why was she arguing about that, when the real problem was a more urgent one? The only thing she'd wanted was to fit in, sparing Logan a lot of drama from his not so cherished family. "This is so embarrassing. I gotta call Logan."

Original Cindy nodded, again elbowing Kendra for her inappropriate observations. But, once Max was out of reach, nervously pinching numbers in a booth, a sly grin appeared on her face while addressing her companion. "D'ya think he actually said Max was his girlfriend?"

* * *

**On a second A/N:** Figured this whole dress-buying thing would be actually troublesome. And I don't think an embarrassing episode with OC and Kendra can be the worst result of this exposure... but that's left for another letter.


	5. Engage

**Disclaimer:** Dark Angel and its characters belong to Fox.

**A/N:** Somewhere after _The Kids are aiight, _tag to _After _because of reasons.

* * *

**Abecedarium**

Engage: _v._ _transitive._ To bind through legal or moral obligation to do something, especially to marry.

The stone in the ring is small and lacks the characteristic spark of a genuine diamond; nonetheless, Max stares at it with a sudden passion, aware of its symbolism, the promise of the things to come.

"It's beautiful," she acknowledges with a wide smile.

Original Cindy's turn to take a look arrives, and she snatches Kendra's hand from Max's. "You'd thought he'd get a bigger one, considering all the cheddar he took from you during years." Max can picture herself saying those words as she retreats from her spot in the living room, but she can't deny the tremendous happiness building within her. Kendra's settling down with _one_ man. If that doesn't say everything is possible, Max doesn't know what is.

Kendra snorts, offended. "Walter's a different man. He doesn't even have that much money anymore."

A clinking sound attracts their attention, and both pairs of eyes are drawn to the kitchen, where Max refills their unmatching glasses with wine. It's a celebration, after all, and effect-less alcohol is the perfect excuse to let out her emotional side without admitting she has become a softie. The consequences of those months kissing and cuddling and loving... "Let's make a toast," she smiles sheepishly.

"Again?" Original Cindy asks as Max rejoins their private circle.

"Yep," the brunette replies, handing out the glasses to her friends, then raising her own in front of her, "for Kendra, the first of us getting married."

A quick clink of the glasses later, their wine level has diminished in all but one: Kendra's. She's reached that level of intoxication that turns her in such an overthinker. "Since my mate over here, playing for the all-girl team, doesn't believe in the sacred institution of marriage, does that mean that you would be the second of our club to get married?"

Original Cindy chokes at the observation, but corrects Kendra after a while, "Does that mean you've thought of gettin' married?"

Max shrugs, grinning in a mysterious aura, "I don't know. Maybe."

"Wow. Things with Logan must be pretty good," Kendra suppresses the need to express her curiosity as a question, knowing Max too well to know she'll just beat around the bush, not giving her the much needed answer. _And why would she need one, when everything is in plain sight_...

Max shrugs again, but this time she occupies her mouth with the remnants of her wine, thoughts lost in the stone that is buried in the bottom of her jeans' pocket. Max hasn't worn it because she's not used to jewelry and, truth to be told, she considers it impractical, but she can't deny that her heart melts a little every time she remembers the fairest promise that someone has ever done to her.

_An equally bright spark in his mesmerizing eyes, Logan speaks, his voice soft, but determined. "Will you-"_

_"Yes," she interrupts him in eager anticipation. "Yes." And now this is more than just a fact. It's the future._

Her friends don't fail to detect the excitement in her eyes, but Max refuses to reveal anything at the time. It's Kendra's moment... She can't ruin it by showing her much bigger ring.

* * *

**On a second A/N:** More M/L sweetness to come.


	6. Fast

**Disclaimer:** Dark Angel and its characters belong to Fox.

**A/N:** Tag to _After_ and _Engage_, Post _Female Trouble_.

* * *

**Abecedarium**

Fast: _adj._ Acting, moving, or capable of acting or moving quickly; accomplished in relatively little time.

It had been a long way down.

Max ringed Logan for what it seemed to be the thousandth time. Once again, she'd been rewarded by his voicemail, a quick and direct arrangement of words spoken by his delightful voice.

"Hey, it's me," she tried to keep it casual, but then added, "_again_. Just checking in, uh..."

She let out a frustrated sigh. Why had it to be that much difficult?

Nonetheless, a low chuckle escaped her lips, and she breathed longingly into the phone. "Anyway, if you need anything, you - you know how to reach me, right?" Another sigh. "Of course you do. Umm, Logan, I - I miss you."

As she hung the phone, Max took notice of her surroundings, certainly not willing to let anyone to be aware of her current state of vulnerability. To her favor, her co-workers - if you could say any of them actually worked - weren't much interested in her personal turmoil, so she was left alone with the watery sensation in her eyes.

"Hot run, 3492 West Boulevard!" Normal yelled, shoving the package against the side of her right arm. "Bip bip bip!"

She would be damned if she were to obey that quickly, but didn't feel like facing someone that actually cared like Cindy - even Sketchy, who was disturbingly growing very fond of her fiancé. After sending Normal the best of her glares, Max rode her bike outside and headed to her destination.

FFFFF

Max didn't return to Jam Pony for the rest of the day. In fact, she wandered aimlessly around the city, flashing the Sector Pass that came with the job anytime a certain place bored her.

It was unusual for her, to be in such a condition without heading to the Space Needle. Had she done so the day after she and Logan had come to an understanding about their feelings and made love for the first time, as well as the night after his proposal. But the whole situation was so ridiculous in her head, it didn't deserve her typical approach. Why couldn't he see it didn't matter to her, of all things, the fact he could or couldn't walk? Why was he so obstinate that he couldn't see how whole he was?

He needed time, precious moments of solitude she'd joyfully handed to him. She knew she could only do as much... still, the lack of communication was killing her slowly. It costed her lot of effort to acknowledge there was more in Logan's life than her love and devotion for him - even when such assumption could be reversed as well.

She pedaled past after twilight, but the sense of defeat never wore off.

FFFFF

Cindy paged her around ten. Max didn't recognize the number until she called back, and blasting, deafening music erupted from the speaker. "Boo, ya gotta drag your ass in here - Original Cindy is way too tired of your self-loathing and such dismay. Come an' have sum fun, and first thing tomorro' mornin', ya go to see your sugga daddy."

Something in her words stung her. Max gasped, not quite sure what to make of her friend's proposal. She struggled to find the invitation appealing - and she succeeded.

Her primal instincts demanded her to accept. It certainly wasn't to give up on Logan - she had it very clear, that he was worth all the trouble. But, after a lifetime of emotional detachment, she found the situation very... _overwhelming_. Her soldier self praised the alternative, labeling it as an opportunity to asset a new approach, an opportunity to learn from other perspectives. Maybe not from Sketchy's, but still...

Max grunted her response into the phone, much to Cindy's delight. "See ya there."

Well, Crash it was.

FFFFF

If she had been on her Ninja, the possibilities of having noticed the Aztek would have been three out of sixty-seven. Slow as she was in the bike, in comparison, she recognized the SUV's outline from afar. It had to be him. It was an uncommon vehicle, after all... and they were its plates.

She stopped abruptly, analyzing her current location.

_Elliot Bay._

It was hard not to think about that one time, the playful banter they threw against each other as they froze together in the cold water. It had been a beautiful day, long hours of foreplay and the eventual sweet love-making - at least until Zack's interruption.

She grimaced at the thought. Even in their good times, it seemed something was always between them, and this was not the exception.

Cindy was going to be so pissed after that, but the rules of the game had suddenly changed, Max being offered a move she didn't have before. "No trespassing," she shouted in a heartbeat as she dismissed the memory, walking toward the lone figure standing in the shoreline. "Can't you read?"

His only response was a rueful laugh.

This time, she took off her shoes without his suggestion, despite the reluctance of her skin to feel the coldness of the water. She shuddered and stood at his right, watching intently the dark body of water before them. A mystery was what lay ahead.

"So, I called you a couple of times," she stated quietly, and he stirred, uncomfortable. "Therefore, the answer to your question is: yes, I've been playing neurotic fiancée."

"That's a way to put it," Logan finally spoke, her heart melting at the very sound.

"I'm marrying the last decent man in the world. You can't blame me if I'm worried for his well-being," Max snorted, "which leads to my question: are you all right?"

"Not quite."

A knot formed in her stomach. Now that he'd said it, it meant her worst fears were all true. And even then, she felt relieved. Wasn't that the first step, to admit a problem?

"I guess I shouldn't have let my hopes get that high," he continued. A shadow covered most of his face, but she still could see the pain in his eyes, and wanted to kiss it all away. If there was someone in the world that deserved better, that was Logan... and she felt cursed, guilty of having dragged the man she loved into such sorrow.

His hand reached out for hers, and he gasped at the contact, feeling the unique shape of her ring against his skin.

"I love you, you know," she spoke quietly.

"Yeah..."

"And I wished you could see how perfect you are," Max closed her eyes. "What you've accomplished during this time - chair or no chair - it's more than anybody else could've done."

He snorted. "You're the one doing the entire job."

"I'm merely doing the easiest part," she shook her head. Still holding his hand, she took a few steps, so she could be standing right in front of him. "You - you are the one who cares, Logan. You work so hard, trying to make things better for folks you don't even know. Sometimes I'd like to tell everyone who you are, so they can admire you and look up at you - just like I do."

Logan gaped. "Max, I-"

"You're the most complete man I've ever met," she silenced him, the pad of her thumb absently caressing his lower lip as she leaned up, just a thin layer of air separating their faces. "You're worthy."

She cupped his face in her hands, and their mouths collided in uncanny synchrony. At some point Logan let out a shaky sigh and Max's heart melted and broke at the same time. Because the situation could be easily the other way around - it was less complicated to let their better half out in one's moment of weakness. She whispered something against his lips, but any sound was muffled by the wind and she couldn't care any less. She'd already said everything he needed to listen.

If the wetness on her face was product of his tears or her own, Max couldn't tell. Still, when she planted her toes back in the ground, she opened her eyes after what felt like hours, and caught a glimpse of something entirely new in Logan's features. His emeralds were still clouded with sorrow, but a tingle of hope and content shone from afar. She smiled and he returned the gesture.

She stared a little longer at him, fascinated by the curve of his lips as the concern that'd carried her over the past few days was washed away by the gentle waves of icy water. Speaking of, she was starting to feel an annoying discomfort on her feet. But it was pointless to even bother trying to drag him out of the waterfront, and for some reason, Max understood that Logan would want a last reminder of what it felt like.

Max stayed in silence for a little longer, until he stepped out of the water. She happily followed, then she brushed her lips against his, suddenly bursting out the only thought she hadn't voiced. "We can still go fast, you know."

Logan's lips twitched up, ever so slightly.

Those mutual answers were the only reply they both needed.

* * *

**On a second A/N:** I think Logan is way past any suicidal thought. After all, in this little universe, he does know someone (and by someone I mean Max) cares deeply about him.

As for the title word, _Fast_... though it can be interpreted as Logan hinting something about his relationship with Max (I did fall for that one, the first time I saw the episode), in my opinion he refers to everything, how he can just go back to _normal_. So that's Max, in her last line, telling him nothing has to change.


	7. Gone

**Disclaimer:** Dark Angel and its characters belong to Fox.

**A/N:** This was some sort of spur of the moment thing. Among my ficlets I hadn't found one that could suit the needs of letter _G_ and now it's kind of good because it'll help me get things going with the next one. Set during the ending of _And Jesus Brought a Casserole. _It certainly goes AU after that.

* * *

**Abecedarium**

Gone: _adj._ No longer existing, having passed; dead.

Logan could enounce a thousand reasons why this was wrong.

The first one was, Max's head wasn't supposed to loll lifeless to its side.

The moment Lydecker reached them didn't register in his brain, until he saw the older man's hand in his vision field, cradling her slender neck for a pulse. Within the second, he withdrew, sighing as he spoke, "She's gone."

An awful sense of finality came down to him as the words were said, like he'd been trying to deny the fact that was lying before his eyes. And it was a fact he couldn't tear his gaze away from her face, waiting for the never-coming instant Max's eyes would open again, the moment life would go on.

He felt numb, dumbfounded. Incomplete.

_This is a joke_, Logan thought, his mind wandering aimlessly until it came across the events–_memories–_of the previous day. The awkward start of their evening. The glint of excitement in her chocolate orbs. The feeling of her hair threading in his fingers. The taste of her lips against his.

The realization that everything would be alright.

All of that suddenly snatched away from him. And try as he might, his arms weren't long enough to grab a hold of his life again.

He tried to focus on her, to ignore the pang in his chest that kept growing deeper as the seconds went by. Objectivity was a concept that, as a journalist, he was familiar with. Yes, he would cling into that. He had to detach himself from his feelings and analyze this situation with a cold head. Because there had to be something, _anything_, that he could do for her...

_Oh, yes_, he realized. There was something.

He hadn't intended to voice his plan, but he had yet to acknowledge he was way out of his league and could no longer control himself anymore. "I'm going to get her back inside. They can fix her up in there," he mumbled as his own dead legs struggled to get them both up.

Lydecker's negative came almost immediately, and it nearly stopped him. "Listen, I know how you feel, son, but you've got to let her go." Oh, he could feel the understanding and knew the reasons behind his words; he'd read Lydecker's file, after all, and knew about his wife's demise.

And he was right. He knew Lydecker was right and it was making everything harder. Because nothing good would come from that, he was going to lead her back to hell and yet–there was no other choice. It was that or leaving her dead, and the thought of life without her, even when he'd just caught a glimpse of what it would be with her, was simply unbearable.

His own reflexes surprised him in a way they never had before. His gun pointed toward the colonel as he prepared to knock Logan with his own, stopping him barely in time. "I can't just abandon her," he stated, staring straight into the older man's eyes.

Lydecker recoiled, but held his gaze. "You don't know if it's possible to bring her back. And even if it is," and there he paused, as if he were to share an abhorrent thought, "she won't just walk away. No one better than me to tell you, Max will be put through the worse you can imagine. She probably won't be the same."

He shut his eyes as the horror of his plan dawned in him, opening them right after he reminded himself that he couldn't give Lydecker a single moment of advantage. But the colonel kept his cool demeanor, certainly decided not to try anything that could trigger a negative–_stupid_–reaction from him. "She's the strongest person I've ever met," Logan said, feeling the resolution coming back to him, "and she did this before, when she was just a girl. I'm sure she'll be able to get out once again."

"What about you?" Lydecker asked.

Well, that was a something he hadn't considered. He shuddered at the endless possibilities; it was most likely that he wouldn't be spared.

But it hardly mattered. He didn't count, at least not in that moment, in that situation. It was Max's life on the line, and that was beyond anything else - up in a pedestal, too precious to waste.

He swallowed the last of his doubts and stood, towering over Lydecker as he held the lifeless body in his arms. "I just have to try."

Lydecker nodded, once, then stepped back. "Then she's going to need our help later," and with that, he retreated, his darkened form disappearing between the trees.

Logan remained glued to his spot for over a minute, then turned his back and started walking in the direction of Manticore.

* * *

**On a second A/N:** I wasn't entirely sure Lydecker would just walk away, but I think he's actually the one who would understand Logan's motives, now that they've been through the same situation. Not to mention, he could actually be a valuable asset to get Max out of Manticore, when the time arrives.

Also, I'm kind of a bit tired, so I apologize for any remaining mistakes.

The next piece will be H for _Heartless_. It's also sort of my response to Replica Velocity's challenge. That's all I'm gonna say ;) (though it still requires a lot of editing. I have bits written there and there).


End file.
